


Corrachag-Cagailt

by Ncj700



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, I do not regret my life choices, I had to buy two dictionaries for this fic, KaleidoscopeKidgeZine2020, Kidge - Freeform, Kolivan - Freeform, Modern Fantasy, Orcadian Dialect, Pidge - Freeform, Pregnancy, Scots Folklore, Scots Gaelic Language, Selkie AU, katie holt - Freeform, keith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ncj700/pseuds/Ncj700
Summary: It felt like the traces of Keith lingering in the house were already physical ghosts—his stupid old Nokia, the wallet without any ID, the odd few Gaelic notes scattered around the tables and counters, his aftershave in the bathroom cabinet, and fishing overalls stinking out the side shelter where the wood and coal were kept—set to become the building blocks of yet another of Kolivan’s soulful, sad tales of the Selkie folk.
Relationships: Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30
Collections: Kaleidoscope: A Fantasy Kidge Zine 2020





	Corrachag-Cagailt

**Author's Note:**

> corrachag-cagailt /kɔRəxaˈkagɪldʲ/  
> boir. gin. -aige-cagailt, iol. -an-cagailt
> 
> 1\. someone hugging the warmth/fireplace all the time  
> 2\. flickering/dancing flames over embers

“ _Slàn leat_ … Thoo’re _sure_ 'at’s whit he telt thee lass?” 

Kolivan’s words, echoing over the lull in the bitter winter sea breeze, were unconvinced, and deepened the furrow between his eyebrows.

His bag of messages (which Allura had packed for him at _Maclennan’s)_ sat between their feet on the beachside rocks they were using as a bench, watching the waves roll.

Katie bit her lip. “I'm sure,” she said.

“Than why dae Ah nae believe nae feentie-bit o’ thoo’re bletherin?” Kolivan checked. “Think lassie; you ken Keith mair better than any fowk aboot; You ken whit atfers he has, you ken whit makes him blide aund whit makes him twartie, aund whit he’d nivver show me, or his mither aund faether,” he said, his voice steady and unruffled. “Are thoo _sure_ he’d steck on thee lass?”

Katie opened her mouth to say ‘ _yes_ ’ again, but stopped short of forming the words on her tongue, feeling tears rolling over her face once again. 

Kolivan was right; she knew Keith. She knew what made him laugh, what put his temper up, and the worries and secrets he wouldn't have shared with anyone else. And just as much as she knew their friends would never believe him capable of walking out without a word, Katie couldn't quite bring herself to think it was really happening, that Keith would just… _leave_.

He’d said he wanted to stay, that he'd wanted to tell her, and the lack of proof had been the restraint on revealing his… heritage. That had been before he found out what Matt had done, but he hadn't been lying. He’d been so relieved when she asked, when he told her she was right...

She just couldn't get those words—‘ _slàn leat_ ’—out of her head, or the fear and dismay that came with them.

“I hope not,” she said finally. 

“Than trust him; he wir wantin to tell thee, tae trust thee with this. Ah telt him tae caa-canny,” Kolivan looked a little sheepish. “No at Ah dooted thee, lass, but tha canna be ram-stam wi’ this maetters” he reasoned. “Aund caa-canny he deud, but he were sure he could trust _thee_ , nae thoo’re brother. Just gae him time. He’ll be back.”

Katie hoped he was right, because she wasn't really looking forward to single parenthood, or accepting that this was, if such a thing _had_ to happen, the way she and Keith were going to break up.

The wind flared and Kolivan coughed a little, bringing his sleeve up to his mouth to cover it; quickly wiping her eyes, Katie got to her feet and held her hand out to the old man.

“Let's get back?” she suggested. “If you can tell me what kind of things… the stories you normally use, for the village,” she said as he picked up his cane and took the offered leverage to pull himself from his seat. “Then… I need to tell my mam and dad about being grandparents, so…”

Kolivan smiled at her, keeping hold of the steadying arm as she picked up his shopping. 

Katie still wasn't convinced that Keith would come back, not entirely. That fear of future loneliness was still there, but she could wait. She could give him time to decide on that. She didn't want him to leave, so hoping Kolivan was right was all too easy to latch onto.

Slowly, patiently, they made their way back along the beach towards the houses on the other side of the bay, and the beach, the centre of Katie’s unwitting fairytale, where her future had begun, twelve fleeting years ago.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ **⎈** ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Are you sure you’re alright driving back to Inverness to pick up your parents from the airport after I go to Ullapool in the morning?” Colleen Holt asked between her bites of pizza.

“I'll be fine, though I might need to turn in early tonight,” her husband nodded, before he looked towards Katie as she bit ferociously at her own slice. “Hey, slow down!” He scolded lightly. “Don’t chew so fast, you’ll choke yourself!”

Katie obediently stopped trying to cram her pizza crusts into her mouth. “But I want to read the book Mrs MacLayne gave me to borrow!” She said. “The best story is about Selkies, like the man on the boats said!”

“Again with the seals,” Matt grumbled. “Your big brain is obsessed Pidge.”

“Stop calling me Pidge!” Katie huffed. “I’m not a pidgeotto! Or Pidgey! They suck!”

“Matt, stop teasing her,” her mom interrupted before they could start sniping any more. “I know a certain young man who’s been quite taken with Soccer since he arrived here and _begged_ me to ask Santa for one of the local team strips after he went to a match with his new friends,” she added pointedly. Matt hunched his shoulders, temporarily cowed; thinking herself unseen, Katie stuck her tongue out at him.

“Put your tongue away, missy,” her father scolded. “What’s all the fuss about seals? What have I missed?”

Katie launched into an explanation of their visits down to the local shop and the pod of seals that lived nearby, and their encounter with the nice but almost unintelligible man on the boats, and how the bit of the story she had seen said they were magic and turned into people.

She told him about the little family of them she’d seen on the rocks, their squashed faces and mottled skins, and how they were _Grey Seals_ according to her big animal encyclopaedia, and had things like blubber, all about their clawed flippers. 

Her father listened patiently until she was done, before looking at her mother. “So, Katie likes the seals?” He summarised

“She’s a little enamoured,” her mom said, smiling. “Mrs MacLayne, they’re the couple who sold us the house, she said the man—Mr MacCodrum—was trustworthy, and I spoke to him this morning when I stopped to get a sandwich for the trip,” her mom said. “He said he was happy for us to take her down to his house on the bay whenever the pod appears again. Katie’s been begging to go since she first spotted them. I think I saw them on the way up the hill if you wanted to take her down before it gets too late?”

Ears pricking at the suggestion, Katie sent her best imploring pleas towards her father. “Please, please, please, please, please Dad!” She begged.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” he said. “As long as this Mr MacCodrum doesn’t object,” he added. “And you eat your dinner properly, little miss.”

Katie proceeded to eat her remaining slices of pizza with as much politeness and manners as she could muster, following her mother to the hallway where she flicked through the small local phone directory Mrs MacLayne had given them, and checked with Mr MacCodrum that she could come visit with her dad. 

He and Matt quickly washed up their plates as Katie bounced in impatient excitement for the verdict; to her relief Mr MacCodrum agreed without any objections, and to Matt’s dismay, he too was pulled into the trip down the hill in thick winter boots and hats and coats about half an hour after the short call. 

Despite Matt’s grumbling he still ran after her with snowballs and jumped up and down through the drifts at the side of the road like a hooligan, causing their father to scold them both—‘ _Just because the traffic is quiet here doesn’t mean you can run all over the road like a pair of headless chickens!_ ’

Eventually, they made their way down the hill to the bay. Had it not been for her father's strict warning earlier, Katie would have bolted across the road and down the short ragged road towards the whitewashed seaside house with the purple door.

It was bigger than it looked at first sight; there were a couple of other similar buildings set further back along the curve of the cliff, maybe storage buildings, but the house itself easily had two more rooms than she would have guessed.

The lights were on in the windows, like tiny beacons of warmth and welcome on the frosty shoreline, and the grumbly old fisherman was waiting for them by the gate, a grim on his face, not seeming to notice the cold, through the long wax coat over his knit jumper and flat cap on his head.

“Mr MacCodrum, Mr MacCodrum!” She greeted waving madly after pulling her gloves hand from her dad’s. “Mom said you said there were seals and that we could see them! Can we? Please, please, please!”

“Pidge!” Her brother called back in dismay as she jumped onto the gate the fisherman was leaning against, almost bursting to just climb over it and jump into the snow behind the barrier.

“Aye aye, whit-like how? Nice to see thee twa again _,_ ” he greeted opening the gate while Katie was still clinging to it (and Matt had caught up) much to her delight . “This vexed at-pitten man yir faether?” He asked when she jumped down.

“Dad got home earlier so he’s sleepy!” Katie said simply jumping off the gate with gusto, holding her arms out to steady herself. “But he wants to see the seals too!”

“No, I’m pretty sure _you’re_ the exhaustion right now Pidge,” Matt said, grabbing her hand after she’d landed in the drift.

Katie yanked her hand back, running over to her dad. “I’m not a Pidgey!” she yelled in protest. “I’m not a Pidgey, I’m not! Stop calling me _Pidge_ , Matt!

“ _Matt_ ,” her dad said, something firm—and pleading—in his voice as he put a hand on her head. “What did your Mom say earlier?”

Matt scowled and grumbled an apology; Mr MacCodrum chuckled as they bickered, and she saw him hold his hand out and exchange greetings with her dad after he had followed them through the gate.

The old fisherman led them through the crunching snow down towards the natural crest of the land, where it dropped to the rocks and pebbles built against it, over the cold and frosted sand.

The waves were chill cheerful crests high up the beach, rolling back and forth as Mr MacCodrum led them towards the crags at the end of the beach, past his house. It was dark, so there was little to see when he stopped them. All she could hear was the soothing lull of the waves in the quiet December night. The snow clouds hid the moon from view, but as Mr MacCodrum whistled a few times, long slow sounds, the cloud cover cleared.

The old man bent and stooped to her eye level, a finger over her shoulder so she could follow the direction he was pointing in easily.

“Luk tae the Skerry lass,” he said. “They ken me fair, so Ah’m sure they’ll come say hello fae a bit,” he added. Then he paused. “Just dinnae get up tae high doh or pock aund shiv or try tae touch them until Ah tell thee, aye?”

Katie nodded. She didn’t understand all the words and didn’t know what a skerry was either, but she understood the tone, the instruction for caution; it was a gentle reminder that the animals that had stolen so much of her curiosity weren’t pets like Bae Bae. 

She also knew how to follow someone’s finger when they were pointing to something. Out from the edge of the water, not far from the side buildings surrounded by building and fishing materials beside Mr MacCodrum’s modest house, was a crest of rock jutting up from the water. 

It was too small to be an island but too big to be just a plain lump of rock in the bay. It was dark, but at the edge of the shoreline, even with the slow rush and sweep of the waves as they pushed at the sand, she could hear dull sounds. Not roars but deep calls.

As she looked out over the winter water, Mr MacCodrum put his fingers to his lips in a circle, letting out the lowest, sad-sounding whistle she had ever heard. Low and long and patient. Not piercing. It sounded like it was melting into the dark sea.

The calls stopped, lowering, and she heard a splash over the gentle hush of the waves when he let out another whistle. Then a few more, then some scuffling, before in front of the large battery lantern sitting on the sand, a shape began to emerge. 

The seal pup was bigger than she had thought (bigger even than Bae Bae!), and its whitish-grey fur was thick over his back, but a little patchier in his underbelly where the light fluff gave way to a darker, tougher hair with lighter speckles. Huge round dark eyes reflected the light of the lamp as its head cocked curiously at them, beckoning; looking at them made her feel like she was sinking into a warm, deep secret of the sea. 

Clawed flippers scraped at the sand, ambling closer curiously towards Mr MacCodrum, and the old man held his hand out to her and she scrambled away from Matt, rushing over, almost jumping out of her wellies as she tried not to bounce in place. “It’s so big!” She said hoarsely.

“This peedie wan?” Mr MacCodrum chuckled. “Nae, he’s just a burd, see how his fur is fleckit, aund thicker?” He pointed; Katie nodded, watching as a much larger seal joined the young one on the beach, eyeing them apprehensively. “At mean he’s still gittan grown. Once all at lite doon is gone he’ll be like as aboot thoo’re brother’s age fer a selkie,” he explained. “Wait a peedie meenit aund Ah’ll see if his fowk want to come say aye aye like as _lightsome neebors_.”

Katie bit her lip, but nodded, stifling her excited impatience, watching as the young seal clambered over his—Mr MacCodrum had called it a boy—wary parent’s back, and ambled a little closer up the beach, where she could make out his mismatched grey and white markings more clearly, see the full round, gentle eyes peering at her.

Mr MacCodrum returned and accompanying him was a fierce stench, almost rotten but fresh, and a bucket in his hand. “This is some of my bait for my creels,” he explained, holding out a pair of giant yellow rubber gloves. “Fae the gurr,” he added, helping her to pull on the oversized gloves. “Noo then, let's see if he’ll tak somethin’ from thee lass.” He paused, then looked at her father. “As long as thoo dinna mind, Pa. The peedie burd’s a gentle soul though, a wee bit blate but he’s keen wi’ people, aund he’ll nae bite, nae as Ah’m aboot.”

Katie didn’t wait for her dad to agree, she pulled on the gloves hanging over the side of the stinking bucket, the yellow sleeves almost reaching past her elbows as she awkwardly sunk her hands without hesitation into the stinking mess of… fish parts.

“...I think she’s already made up her mind,” her father chuckled as Matt wrinkled his nose at the smell beside her. “It’s alright. If something looks dangerous Matt and I will grab her.”

“Try you mean,” her brother snorted as she held up two fistfuls ful of the fish guts to Mr MacCodrum inquiringly. “Ew, don’t wave that stuff around Pidge!”

Katie _ignored_ him. She wasn’t a _Pidge_.

“Alright lass, thoo stand over here wi’ me,” Mr MacCodrum said, holding out an arm. Katie rushed over to him where he had crouched down on the chilly sand, a clump of slimy bait in his own bare hand. “Hold it out like this,” he showed her. “Keep thoo’re fingers flat, nice aund steady,” he advised before letting out another whistle.

The seal had already taken notice of the fish, sniffing the air and dragging himself closer across the beach until he was almost an arm’s length away, great dark eyes wide and curious, inky and shining in the moon and starlight.

“Does he have a name?” Katie asked, whispering so the animal didn’t hear her.

He chuckled as the seal—who had inched closer with another sniff of the air—eyes her again, like he knew Katie was talking about him. “Nae wan ‘at Ah ken lassie,” he said, with mirth in his eyes. “Might be he’ll tell thee himself? Or maybe you kin think o’ wan for him; Ah’m sure he wouldna mind. ”

Katie tried to think of all the boys' names she knew. None of them sounded like a good name for a Seal. She could have used the names of her Seel or Dewgong off her gameboy but they were both girls, and she didn’t want them to share names anyway—she’d worked hard to find those! It had taken _forever_ to get to the Seafoam Islands!

So, she looked at the young seal pup, watching the glints in his eyes, and thinking about all the books still in boxes in her new room, the ones about the stars and planets and space, and all the con-stell-a-tions which she and her parents were going to paint on her ceiling in glow-in-the-dark paint to go with her stick on stars. 

“Kosmo!” She declared. “K-o-s-m-o, cause I can see stars in his eyes, and they’re part of the cosmos,” she said, pointing up with her free hand at the bright, unfamiliar patterns in the stars she’d been reading about.

‘That’s a ‘ _C_ ’ honey, her dad said. “Cosmos is spelled with a ‘ _C_ ’.”

Strangely, the pup followed her line of direction, tilting his head back curiously before inching closer to her hand, and after another gently sniff, scraped the fish guts and meat away from her gloves fingers, with enthusiastic chomps.

“No it’s not! My book said it was ‘ _K_ ’, cause it was old and not english!” Katie insisted, still keeping her voice low as the seal munched on another trail of meat, chewing on it eagerly and fluffing it down his throat contentedly. “ ‘ _K_ ’ for Kosmo and ‘ _K_ ’ for Katie!”

The pup called out a low cry again, nudging his nose to her hand—now bereft of offerings—and nuzzling, much to her delight.

“Ah’ll reckon he’s fair keen tae it lass,” Mr MacCodrum chuckled. “K fer Kosmo it is.”

Katie laughed as the seal let her run her hand gently over his head then pulled it back, and ruched back over to the bait bin to get him another handful of food.

With her dad and brother to keep her company, and with their reluctant assistance, it emptied long before excitement and her own due rest caught up with her, and Katie became a yawning lump if tired contentment on her fathers back.

After the walk back up the hill, against the quiet backdrop of her dad and brother talking, and she had been tucked up into bed with her stuffed Arcanine by her mom, Katie drifted into dreams of stars and salt and the spray of the winter sea, and the strange animals whose wide dark eyes spoke of gentle souls.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ **⎈** ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For sixteen years, the north-west coast had been the foundation for the uncertain footing of childhood, teenage adventure, and the history of a world Katie Holt didn’t know to call anything but home. 

Her family had moved from the endless and roaming buildings of Idaho Falls to Scotland when she was six years old, at the end of November 1999. Her dad had been offered a job as an environmental consultant for a company that managed offshore oil rigs in the North Sea, and it had been one of those lucrative, once-in-a-lifetime only chances.

Not often had she thought about the changes it had brought to her life. Now, she couldn't think of how her life might have been if her parents had never left America, and as much as it hurt her now, Katie knew she wouldn't change any of it.

The days following Keith’s departure, and Kolivan’s intervention into her self-imposed sulking (so to speak), passed from November into the last ones of the year, and Katie felt them whirl in a seamless blur.

It felt like time was swimming around her as the grey winter skies blended seamlessly to the ocean at the horizon, knitting together in a single dimmed colour.

Eventually she settled herself with the knowledge that her boyfriend was a selkie and accepted the skin-stealing drama that had occurred under her nose. She wasn't going to give birth to a baby seal, so her primary concerns were—sort of—abated for the time being.

Her next biggest problems were her parents, and the rest of the villagers.

Her parents had been surprised, but ecstatic to hear about the baby, and worried to hear about Heath’s sudden ‘ _illness_ ’, when she gave them the excuse for Keith’s abrupt departure.

Katie had told them the same thing Kolivan had told Allura at his advice, and the understanding that a few locals knew already of Keith’s father’s ‘ _dodgy health_ ’.

He rarely came ashore, and his ‘ _illness_ ’ had served as a good explanation for absences in the past. No one would question it, and it wouldn’t have people thinking Keith had up and left her without a word. 

For now at least. She had told her parents just in time, because it felt like she had woken up the day after to find a small, but noticeable bump her leggings failed to hide properly. Katie knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever, and decided it was easier to rip the bandage off.

She pulled on a thigh length jacket over her shirt and leggings, and went into _Maclennan’s_ to pick up Kolivan’s messages on her way to work; by lunchtime, she had over thirty three Facebook notifications screaming congratulations and more texts than she had the time to look at from people in the Keuanbrae group page.

She didn’t know what to do if Kolivan was wrong. She still hoped he wasn’t, hoped that he was right, and that Keith would come back, because she didn’t know what she was going to tell people if he didn’t.

She had decided to wait until Hogmanay. A month hardly sounded fair but if she had to make up excuses then it was, realistically, the most she could manage. Kolivan had sighed, clearly still thinking she was worrying too much, but agreed it was a good timeframe to work with.

Katie knew Keith needed time even if he did plan to return. She also knew now, thanks to several in depth conversations about selkie habits and requirements with Kolivan, that there was some truth to some of the legends that spoke of seventh streams as times when a selkie could come ashore.

The seventh stream, or spring tides, had higher high tides and higher low tides. Kolivan explained that the higher water level made it easier to change at sea, and come ashore without arousing suspicion. Legends had attributed it to magic, but it was simply just more practical. 

So, she checked the lunar cycles and local tide predictions. Spring tides occurred on the new and full moons, of which there were two dates in December. A full moon on the third, and a new moon on the eighteenth. There would then be a new moon around New Years, but the local timetable hadn’t updated, and she couldn’t find a reliable estimation online for Keuanbrae.

The third of December had already passed, with nothing but a few familiar pinnipeds coming ashore, watching her intently as she walked from her car to the house after a trip out to Ullapool for a better food supply.

Katie could have sworn one of them, an older female with her tail flippers pointed as she basked in the cool winter sun, drooped, and lifted her head to stare at her for a moment. The markings were familiar to her. She was one of the older females in the local pod.

Shaking off the gaze, Katie turned back to getting the bags of eggs and pasta and canned soup out of the car boot. When she looked back before closing it the female was gone. 

There was still no sign of Keith. A few of the seals remained, but they still eyed her nervously and she could only assume that after either seeing or somehow finding out about what happened the night Keith had reclaimed his skin, they were giving her a wider berth than normal.

Which was fair, but still. It wasn't her fault, and it kind of felt like she was being cast as guilty by unwitting association. By _pinnipeds_.

Kolivan told her to ignore it, and began trying to encourage her to talk to her brother again, but she couldn't bring herself to forgive him completely. 

She would. His mistake had been an honest if ill-thought one, she knew that. But that mistake was the reason she was facing the prospect of single parenthood right now, and if he’d just kept his nose to himself, _none_ of this would have happened.

The eighteenth loomed overhead and passed on a day with more calm than she would have liked, with the first of the winter flurries falling from the skies. The snow began to pile and put a luminous, glittering cast on the sand and rocks, and Katie made a point of convincing Kolivan to move into the spare bedroom.

He was doing well for a centenarian, but the idea of him going for a walk or just wandering along his own beachfront home, even just a few hundred meters away, put her on edge. Having another tide pass with no familiar tuna-sandwich loving seal raising his rounded head from the water, was also disheartening. She had a feeling that was why Kolivan agreed, and why he accepted her parents’ invite to Christmas dinner.

The holiday arrived with a pile up of snow that had been missing from the winter seasons of recent years, and Katie did her best to be positive and keep up a face for her parents sake. She tried to be more open with Matt, to chat and convince her parents that, yes, she was _absolutely certain_ that she wanted a home birth, and no, they weren’t going to change her mind, could they drop the subject and pass the cranberry sauce please?

She got through it; Allura came round with the twins on Boxing Day to check in too, ask if she’d heard anything from Keith (and to warn her that Katie’s mother had started a secret facebook group to throw her a baby shower down at _The Hilling_ ).

Katie tried not to let her unease show, and keep making her way through the next few days. The kids being off school took away the sea life class she’d been helping out with, but she still had three colonies to keep track of and she was determined to keep her mind occupied until her belly got too big to clamber down to shingle beaches or over sand dunes.

There was still one more tide, at new year. When she’d told herself she’d give up the little lingering hope that Keith had just left to reacquaint himself with his first home, his parents, that he wasn’t gone forever.

Waiting for it felt like having to wait for the inevitable; she was slowly becoming more sure that Kolivan’s optimism was just kindness, and not the realistic pessimism she’d first assumed.

It felt like the traces of Keith lingering in the house were already physical ghosts—his stupid old Nokia, the wallet without any ID, the odd few Gaelic notes scattered around the tables and counters, his aftershave in the bathroom cabinet, and fishing overalls stinking out the side shelter where the wood and coal were kept—set to become the building blocks of yet another of Kolivan’s soulful, sad tales of the selkie folk.

It was strange; the more she thought about it, the more she realised, as days confined to pass towards Hogmanay—Kolivan’s 116th birthday combined with the bells at least managed a decent distraction for one day—that everything she grown so content and comfortable with, and everything she’d been hoping for before that disastrous night when her brother appeared with Keith’s skin in hand, was everything she had once abhorred the thought of.

She’d left school at 16, and if some had told her then that at 24 she’d have a house of her own in Keuanbrae, or that she would be seeing one of the local guys with a baby on the way, she would probably have choked in combined horror and laughing derision at the very thought.

Now she wished things would go back to being that banal, mundane, comforting normality with every day that passed.

The wind was bitter as January reached the end of its second day, and after she got back from the checks on other colonies further up the coast towards Achiltiebuie, Katie had to resist the urge to forget about her final count for the day, and head into the house after parking up.

The snow was so cold it was more like frozen ice, and if she went inside before her last check for the day, even if she just did so for ‘ _five minutes_ ’, that time would last until the next morning. So reluctantly, she hauled her rucksack out from the backseats, left her car at the house, and carefully made her way along the beach.

The pod hadn’t completely deserted the beach, but most of them had left it empty in favour of the skerries and small island bays of Inchnaròn, so there was very little to actually count after she had sat down in one of the rocks and pulled her notebook and pen from her bag. After she was done, she sat and watched the flashes of the lighthouse across the water, the reflection on the dark, night-stained waves the only light upon them.

Somewhere, above the thick clouds that had dropped a continuous flurry all day, there was a full moon, but the light wasn’t reaching the surface with the weather, and Katie could help but see it as a final sign that, as much as she had hoped to be wrong, she had been right, and that Keith’s last words to her—

‘ _Tha an tràigh àrd—‘S e baoghalach! Agus a-steach mus tig an eitig annad! Bidh mi gad fhaicinn gu luath, Lennan. Slàn leat air an àm._ ’

—had been final, parting ones.

She been watching the coastline all day, checking her phone for messages from Kolivan, hoping he’d seen something, hoping to see a flash of ‘ _Kosmo’s_ ’ familiar speckled markings, a rounded head bobbing in the water, or deep wide, unfathomable eyes peering back at her. 

But she didn’t. She hadn’t seen anything for weeks.

The wind picked up blistering her face with its chill, and she shivered as the clouds finally began to move east over the mountaintops and the top of the pass above Keuanbrae, disappearing on the other side of the bay as Katie let the sting from wind be the confirmation.

Wiping her eyes as tears began to bite over her cheeks she stared at the drops clinging to her fingers, before kaughing to herself and flicking one out over the rocks and into the waves below.

One of the stories Kolivan had told her when she was a child obsessed with everything magic and mysterious and anything remotely related to seals, was that a woman who wanted to summon a male selkie had to drop seven of her tears into the sea.

Considering his explanation for how selkies could change form at will had been less informative and more along the lines of—‘ _Hell if I know,_ ’—Katie had a feeling that particular legend had been embellished over the years for dramatic effect. Still.

She flicked another six off anyway before trying to wipe her face, and hoped Kolivan would just assume the red eyes were from the weather.

A bolt of cloud covered the moon again, plunging the beach back into darkness; there was no point in waiting any longer.

She began to fish around in her pocket for her phone to turn on the torch so she could get back safely to the beach. As she rummaged, there was a loud splash.

“Katie?”

She froze, and as the last of the clouds released their monopoly of the starry sky, Katie turned towards the crest and crag of the rockpools, then down, to the lips and steps of salt-cut, dark, jagged rocks bleeding into the water below her perch.

There, half submerged in the icy water, the great pelt hanging over his back and shoulders as he clambered from the waves onto the rock, was Keith. He was looking up at her, shock on his face as he began to climb.

His limbs were pale as the moonlight finally broke through the cloud onto the bay, glistening as he pulled at the slippery, frozen rocks, muscle flexing as he finally hauled himself up to her low ledge, crouching in front of her.

“ _Thoo’re pregnant?_ ” He asked, shocked and awed words blurting from his lips, cold fingers reaching for her hands.

Taken aback, Katie stared at her bump momentarily. Even being covered up by plenty of layers didn’t really hide it. She nodded, wondering if the cold had finally got to her and she was hallucinating until Keith pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. 

She could taste the salt on his skin where his neck brushed against her lips, and feel the prints of his embrace soaking into her jacket, a damp mark that evidenced his presence.

He was _home_ , and for a moment she sniffed, clinging her arms around his back, reminding herself of the feel of his shoulders, the familiar stretch of muscle across his back, the smoothness of his skin, everything about him. She tried to commit it back into her memory. He’d come _back_.

In one of Kolivan’s old ballads there would have been a poetic romantic reunion. This was not, however one of those stories; for one thing, selkies never returned in the stories, and for another, the ballads never mentioned anything about them being so wet. 

The cold, damp and sensation of Keith's bare, clammy skin shot through her, confirming that she really wasn’t hallucinating.

“Keith! Get off of me!” She blurted indignantly as cold skin and wet hair clarted her face, squirming away despite herself. “You’re feckin’ soaked!”

“And thoo’re freezing!” he shot back “Whit the hell are ya deuan out here lennan?” He asked. 

She stared at him, the spectacle that was Keith, standing on a rock naked as a baby with only the large grey seal skin across his shoulders to keep off the chilled January air.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Katie could hear the sniff of tears in her voice, and Keith faltered, taken by surprise with it. “It’s springtide! I wanted to know if… You just left! You said goodbye an' I thought…” Katie bit her lip trying to compose herself for speech. “It’s springtide…” she stressed. “…I needed to know if…”

Keith’s expression faltered, shock and confusion the main elements on his sea-clean features. “You thought I wisna…” He asked.

She sniffed wiping her eyes again. “I… All I heard you say was goodbye!” She said, weeks of unease spilling like a waterfall confession from her lips “Kolivan said if you were coming back, it’d be during a springtide!”

Keith still looked shocked, but he pulled her close again, letting her cry on the bare skin he was still sitting in. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I left like that, aund… I thought... I said I’d be back soon?”

“You said a bunch of other stuff I didn't understand because I can't speak Gaelic!” she sniffed, a little waspishly. She was allowed to be a little irritated about that, wasn't she? “I heard you say ‘ _Slàn leat_ ’, which I know means goodbye, but that was it! What else was I supposed tae think after what my brother did?”

Keith's arms tightened around her shoulders, and she felt his lips press against her cheek. Flooded by relief, she sniffed and generally let out all the tension and fear that had been following her for the past weeks of the lunar cycle. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith said. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Katie.” His voice was the same honest, genuine sincere voice she was used to, and she knew she didn't feel any doubt from the sincerity in them. “I'm sorry fir how I left, fir not thinking aboot… I was just… upset. I didnae think aboot what I was saying as much as makin’ sure I wisna snapping at thee...”

Katie nodded. “I'm no mad about it, Keith, I don’t have… My brother stole your skin! Some cryptid enthusiast he is if he canna tell the difference between selkies and mermaids and sirens! I’d be mad too, and Kolivan… I'm no mad at you for wanting to go…”

“Aye, but I still put the fear into you leannan,” he said, leaning back and taking her shoulders so she could look him in the eye. “Aund I’m sorry. I really, really am, and I promise, I'm no leavin’ you.” he reached a hand up and brushed under her eyes with a thumb. “Do you want me to translate?”

Katie reached a hand up to the one still on her shoulder, squeezing it, making sure it was still there, and nodded. “Please.”

“ _Tha an tràigh àrd —‘S e baoghalach,_ ” he began, repeating the words that had hovered around her ears, without sense or understanding as shapeless sounds since his departure. “I was trying tae warn you, aboot the tide that far oot, when you followed me, it wir dangerous, and ‘ _Agus a-steach mus tig an eitig annad_ ’ wir the same. I didna want you tae get sick more than you were…” he explained.

Katie let those words sink in, clipping them together with her memories, trying to rephrase them, put them under a new filter as he continued the explanations in his lilting voice _._

“After that, I said…” he paused trying to remember. “ ...I said, I'd be back soon—‘ _Bidh mi gad fhaicinn gu luath, Lennan_ ’— aund… I did say goodbye, but no a forever one. ‘ _Slàn leat air an àm_ ’ is like… ‘ _see you soon_ ’ or ‘ _goodbye for now._ ’ Does that make sense?”

Katie took in a breath, and nodded, leaning into his shoulder. “It does,” she said. “But I think I should still download the gaelic course on DuoLingo,” she laughed only half jokingly.

Keith chuckled, wrapping his arms around her again, his shin leaning on top of her head as the waves sloshed gently against the rocks below. “Leannan,” he started, the endearment hesitant. “Why’d you nae _tell_ me?”

Katie flinched, but Keith had apologised for his folly, and really, no matter the reason, hiding the fact that they had made a child together wasn't something she really should have made a decision on for him. It wasn't fair.

“I wanted to,” she admitted. “I wanted to save it until after the big conversation, but… Matt interrupted,” she said. “I nearly told you when I caught up to you but… you were so scared, and angry, and I could tell you wanted and needed to go…” she said. “I didna want you to change your mind, or feel like I was trying to bribe you to stay, because that would have been how it would have come across at the time…”

She took a deep breath again; she felt better for getting off her chest, for admitting her own poor decision process. “I'm sorry. I should have said something. I don’t have the right to force you to be involved, but on the other side of the coin, I shouldn't have... dictated whether that choice was yours to make at all.”

Keith was silent, mostly. She could hear his contemplation in the brush of his thumb on the sleeve of her jacket, the way he wanted out over the bay as he curled around her. 

“I’m nae mad,” he said finally. “I mean, I cannae put myself _exactly_ in your shoes but… it makes sense. And I dinna blame you. I think you made the best choice you could, all things considered.”

He shifted, getting to his feet and holding a hand out to her. “Lets go inside?” he offered, offering a small, wary grin. “ _Thugainn thoir an taigh ort._ ”

Katie rolled her eyes, but reached a hand out and let him help her to her feet. She didn't need DuoLingo to know what he meant.

After she had got up, Keith pulled his skin off his shoulder, wrapping it around her. It felt warm, like it was breathing, and curling around her; Katie lifted one hand up to hold it together, keep it close—safe from the danger of being lost again, and cementing her own responsibility for the trust in the gesture Keith had made to her by wrapping it warm and close about her—then she took his hand again, and let him lead her back to the shore.

his hand a steady reassurance and support for the dodgy footholds on the icy stones and sand as they headed towards Kolivan’s. There was a glow of warmth from the window, and she could see his silhouette in the window, but as they walked, something else popped to mind.

“If you were offshore, how did you find out?” she asked. “About the baby?”

“Ma told me,” he said. “She saw you on the beach once; I’d gone out to the Hebrides to try catch up wi’ my daa—cause’ he’d been visiting his old pod before I left—and let him know I’d got my skin back, but _he’d_ gone to catch up with a different pod closer to Iceland, so she had to come looking for us both. That was why it took so long to get back. That and we had tae dodge some Killers for a while—”

Killers? As in _Killer Whales?_ Orcas? He’d been stuck in Iceland because he’d been chased by _Orcas?_

“—but I promised you I’d be back, so they had to make do wi’ someone else.”

The door further along the beach opened, And Kolivan’s familiar face hobbled around the door, a pleased, but exasperated look on his face. Keith waved at his grandfather, and Katie couldn't help but join in.

Unwrapping their enclosed hands for a moment, she gave a smaller wave back, before quickly tangling their fingers back together.

They still had so much to organise and so much to talk out; the conversations were not over by a long shot. She’d need to talk to her brother, make sure he apologised, and there were going to be so many changes now—and not just the baby—but for now they could wait.

As Kolivan ambled towards them, and for his own reunion with his grandson—scolding and concerned and impatient for him to ‘ _Faith, beuy_ , _pit some bluidy breeks on! Nae-fowk want’s tae see thee mither naked!_ ’—Katie reassured herself with the present.

First things first, she wanted to hear more about those Killer Whales.

Kolivan ushered them inside to the warm embers and the crackle of a dancing fireplace, where the earthy smell of fresh peat broke the January chill and closed the purple door, enclosing them in the promise of warmer, brighter days to come kept safe behind it.

* * *

This was my piece for [Kaleidoscope: A Fantasy Kidge Zine!](https://kidgezine.tumblr.com/post/628338186505060352/kidgezine-after-a-rough-year-it-is-complete) Please go check out the link and download the PDF, its free bc Queen Corona is a tyrant and we all deserve a little goodness and respite in our lives during the mess that is 2020. 

In case it's not obvious, my piece was inspired by some of the Selkie folklore based in my home country rather than the traditional mermaid aesthetic ;) Hence why Kolivan speaks in a dialect that is only topped in incomprehensibility by Doric and in some cases, Heavily accented, thick Glaswegian. I'll post translations in the notes if needed (bc Kolivan is the reason I needed two dictionaries on Orcadian for this) but the context should be enough to infer what he's saying.

This is actually the short version, because like always I can never keep these things to oneshots, I need CHAPTERS damn it, so expect more from this in the future. I must also stress that while I pushed the boat out and did an IRL setting in this one, the main village and areas mentioned in this tory, while having some basis in real places I have either seen or visited, are fictional. There are a few IRL places thrown in for geographical orientation, but thats the limit of what I'm willing to put in.


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